


Skinny Love

by gracesfonda



Category: Grace and Frankie (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Slow Burn, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-14
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-04-21 08:16:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 11,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14280786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gracesfonda/pseuds/gracesfonda
Summary: Grace has this third sense when it came to Frankie, she could tell when she was near without any sound or sight. Maybe it was the faint scent of tea tree oil that clung in the air when Frankie was nearby, or the positive vibes she radiates, maybe, maybe, maybe. And, maybe Grace will never know exactly what it is and maybe she doesn’t want to know, but it’s there. It’s real. And it’s strong.





	1. The Sleepover

**Author's Note:**

> sorry if this is the worst fic ever, but it’s my first, also this chapter is short and not yet explicit but it will get there

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is my first gaf fic and i’m still trying to figure out where i want it to go.

Grace sensed Frankie’s absence before she fully had woken, she was colder than she had been when she briefly contently stirred in the night with her friends body keeping her warm beneath the already thick duvet. 

But more than that, Grace felt her soul already knew Frankie had fled from her bed in the early hours of the morning. For what reason? Grace could only guess. 

Maybe Frankie didn’t want to overstay her welcome, maybe she couldn’t sleep well in a bed that wasn’t hers (which Grace knew was not the case because Frankie could sleep anywhere, anytime) or maybe inspiration had woken her and she had ran to her studio before the vivid vision had a chance to blur and disappear in her cluttered mind, maybe, maybe, maybe. 

Grace had this sense she couldn’t explain when it came to Frankie, she could tell when she was near without any sound or sight or indication. Maybe it was the faint scent of tea tree oil that clung in the air when Frankie was nearby, or the positive vibes she radiates, maybe, maybe, maybe. And, maybe Grace will never know exactly what it is and maybe she doesn’t want to know, but it’s there. It’s real. And it’s strong. 

Grace opened one eye, slowly and gently, watching her vision go from blurry to clear in about thirty seconds, not wanting the already risen sun to hurt her overly-sensitive eyes. She was happy to see not much sun had invaded her room yet, which meant it was early and she hadn’t slept the day away. Which was easy for her to do when Frankie accompanied her overnight, Grace blamed it on her hating to sleep alone and on the rare occasion since the break in when she allowed Frankie to share her bed, Grace slept soundly. 

With a quick glance to her left, Grace could clearly see the digital alarm clock on her nightstand, it read 7:02 AM. Grace was quite delighted with herself considering she, and her missing bedmate, got to bed late last night. Much too late for her taste, and in light of the heavy rain last night Grace had suggested Frankie stay in the main house to avoid getting soaked. And, by the main house Frankie assumed Grace meant her room when she really had meant the couch. And, Grace didn’t want to hurt Frankie’s feelings so she let her share her bed. But, more importantly, it was completely out of character for Frankie to be out of bed before 10:00 AM when she got a full nights rest. So, where had she gone off to? 

Just as Grace was about to get out of bed and head downstairs in hopes of finding Frankie, she heard a noise through the slightly closed door to the right of her room. Oh, she realized, Frankie must have went to the bathroom and that’s what woke her. Grace quickly laid down, not wanting Frankie to know she had woken, in hopes of them catching a few more hours of shuteye before their day officially started. 

Grace was just perfectly situated when she heard Frankie’s footsteps on the hard wood floor. Even though her eyes were closed tight she could imagine Frankie step by step, walking light as a feather as to not disturb Grace. She was confused when she heard the footsteps stop short and felt no movement on the bed. Grace felt as though she could sense eyes on her, and she had to fight not to open her own to see what Frankie was up to. 

From above her, Grace heard the shutter of Frankie’s iphone camera and bit back a smile, but could do nothing for the flush creeping up her neck, knowing Frankie was taking a picture of her made her beam inside. It was something that showed she cared, showed that she was valued, something that Robert would have never thought to do but she is beyond grateful her best friend does it. And Grace is even more grateful for moments like this when she catches Frankie in the act. 

She heard Frankie set the phone back down next to Grace, and continue her journey to the other side of the bed. The duvet moved slightly as Frankie climbed in. Grace was instantly relieved when she felt Frankie’s heat generating towards her, before realizing what she was doing she felt herself leaning back into it, chasing it, wanting it more than she wanted anything else. 

Frankie pressed herself up against Grace’s back, making Grace the little spoon and not at all aware that Grace was awake. She flung an arm around Grace’s skinny waist, lingering on her bare skin where her satin shirt had rid up and letting it rest there. 

Grace felt herself fighting sleep, not wanting this oblivion to end and laying in Frankie’s arms she felt more content than she had in, maybe forever. Sooner rather than later sleep took over Grace and the last thing she remembered thinking was she didn’t need any of her pills to help her drift into sweet unconsciousness when Frankie’s next to her.


	2. The Morning After

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let me know what you think. this is definitely still a work in progress!

Frankie woke to a skinny leg draped over her knee, her own arm wrapped around a satin covered torso, her normally cold skin burning where their bodies met. Frankie sucked in a breath when Graces head snapped up from her pillow. 

“Oh, you’re awake, sleepy head,” Grace smiled, her skin glowing, already looking flawless for the early hours of the morning. 

Wait, Frankie thought, what time is it even? As if Grace could sense her panic, she answered for her. 

“It’s a little after noon,” Grace told her, without a hint of anger in her voice, that surprised Frankie. 

“Why didn’t you wake me up?” 

“Well, I didn’t wake up until about 11, and with the way we’re sleeping,” she gestured down to their bodies being tangled together, “I knew if I got out of bed, it would wake you up. And I know how you need your full 8 hours.” 

Frankie smiled, then bit her tongue as she fully realized how they were positioned and how neither of them had made an attempt to move. 

“But, Grace, we have such a busy day! Are you mad?” Frankie panicked, her mind thinking back on the day before, their full itinerary Grace had drilled into her head, everything planned out to the minute, maybe even the second. 

Grace shifted her body off from Frankie, lifted her head, placed her hand on Frankie’s shoulder. “No, Frankie. I’m not mad, we can work a little later than usual tonight to make up for it. But not as late as we worked last night,” Grace clarified. 

“Promise?”

By now, Grace knew Frankie wasn’t expecting her to reply with “I promise.” Frankie was expecting Graces warm, plump lips on her forehead. A silent promise that meant more than words between them ever could. 

Grace took ahold of both sides of Frankie’s head, leaned in and placed her lips on the warm, beautiful skin of Frankie’s forehead. She let her eyes drift closed and lingered on Frankie’s skin for a moment longer than usual. 

The first time Frankie asked her to do this, Grace refused. Called her childish. And, as they continued to grow closer, Grace found herself enjoying their little ritual maybe even more than Frankie. She would find times to say “I promise” to Frankie just so she could seal the deal. 

Grace let go of Frankie and began to get off the bed when she felt Frankie’s hand on her wrist. 

“Do we really have to get out of bed, Grace?” Frankie whined. Grace chuckled. 

“Yes, Frances. We already slept most of the day away. We’ll be lucky if we get 8 hours of work in today.” 

“Fine, but I’m not considered awake until I’ve baked,” Frankie laughed, and Grace turned back to her with her eyebrows raised but didn’t protest. 

Walking towards her bathroom, Grace began unbuttoning her satin pajama shirt. Without even realizing it her fingers found their way to where Frankie’s hands had been resting moments before. The skin still felt hot, fevered. 

Grace was glad her back was to her friend when she felt a blush creep up her neck as she wondered if Frankies skin, too, felt hot where her hands had been. Grace closed the bathroom door behind her, locking out her thoughts as well.


	3. Square Roots

Frankie opened the windows and the balcony doors in Graces bedroom, while her blonde roommate was showering. The scent of the ocean came flooding inside before Frankie had retreated to the bed. 

While lighting up the bong, Frankie knew Grace was going to be pissed as hell at her for smoking weed in her bed, going to complain she needed to clean everything in the room for a week to get the smell out, but Frankie was feeling much too lazy to go out on the terrace. 

The bathroom door swung open as Grace walked out, oblivious to the fact that Frankie still occupied her bed, wrapped in a white towel that struggled to cover the tops of her still perfectly sculpted thighs. 

One glance at the tanned and still wet woman before her and Frankie inhaled a much too large hit from her bong that was poorly calculated and left her throat burning and her gasping for air. 

“Jesus! Frankie! You’re lucky I didnt come out naked or you would have died of a fright! You could have given me a heart attack! I thought you were downstairs!” Grace gasped, her hands on her chest. 

“Uh, yeah, Grace, died from a fright... I’m sure,” Frankie swallowed hard, suddenly very nervous. Grace watched a blush creep up her chest to her neck and then settled in her face. 

“Frankie, why are you acting like this? For Christ sakes, the first time we met you showed me your tits and asked ‘do these things look right?’ And why the fuck are you smoking weed in my goddamn bed?” Grace spat at her best friend, suddenly frustrated with this new awkwardness. 

“I’m not acting like anything, Grace. I just tend to appreciate the naked female form and I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable is all.”

“Oh,” Grace whispered as she sat down on the bed and held her hands out to the bong that sat in Frankie’s. Frankie gladly handed it over, relishing in the fact that she was seeing so much of a new side of Grace. 

Grace placed her lips on the bong and lit it, taking a rip and inhaling deeply. Frankie smiled widely at her best friend, proud of how far she’s come. Just last month Grace was under the impression she couldn’t smoke until all their work for the week was done. Now Grace was getting high BEFORE the work day began. 

“What?” Grace asked, letting the smoke exhale from her lungs and handed the bong back to Frankie. 

“Nothing, just surprised the Grace Hanson is getting baked before we’ve started working, in the middle of the week,” Frankie laughed, loving the new Grace. 

“Yeah, well, Frances, people change, but I will be not changing the rule of no pot in my bed!” Grace said, lightly with a laugh. 

“Fine, boss. What’s with this change of heart? Not that I’m complaining, just intrigued.”

“Well, life is too short not to enjoy what little I have left,” Grace answered, “come on, we gotta get a move on because now that we’re high it’s going to take us even longer!” 

————

Thirty minutes later Grace was walking down the stairs in her more than casual work attire that consisted of her favorite jeans, and her yellow button down shirt patterned with birds. Her hair was lightly curled with minimal hair spray since Frankie was the only person she was going to come into contact with today and a thin layer of makeup for the exact same reason. 

Grace entered the kitchen, scanning the house for Frankie as she made her way through it. Grace could feel the smile on her face and the confinement of her already slightly open eyes, side effects of the pot. 

Her eyes found Frankie from across the room, who was seated at the table. Frankie had opened the doors to let the sea breeze in and was putting labels on boxes. Grace felt her heart swell, watching her friend work. 

“Gonna join me, Kevin?” Frankie asked, with a quick glance behind her. 

“How’d you know I was there? I’m not even wearing heels today,” Grace replied, “but, yes, let me make a martini first. I’ll be right there.”

“I could just sense you were there,” Frankie answered, simply. Grace stopped in her tracks for a short second, realizing she had thought the same exact thing just last night in bed with Frankie. 

Frankie reached down to her phone on the table and pressed ‘play’ on her apple music ‘werk’ playlist. Rap music began playing out of the speakers, startling Grace. 

Grace gripped tightly on the counter, until her breathing returned to normal. She opened the freezer and grabbed out her Grey Goose, filled her martini glass almost to the top. She topped off the glass with vermouth and an olive. 

Grace walked back to the table, “can’t we listen to something more, I dont know, age appropriate?” Grace asked, sitting down, martini in one hand, phone in the other. She placed her phone on ‘do not disturb’ and flipped it upside down. 

“No, Grace. Then how would we know the square root of sixty-nine if we didn’t listen to Drake?” 

Grace looked up from the box she just began taping, “Um, you would just use the formula, let me see, square root of sixty-nine, would be—“

“NO! The square root of sixty-nine, is 8 something!” Frankie screamed, horrified with Grace. 

“I’m sorry, but if you would have let me finish, that’s what I was going to say,” Grace answered, not bothering to hid the frustration and confusion on her face. She took a big drink from her glass, waiting for Frankie to explain. 

Looking over to her right where Frankie sat, she seen a huge grin plastered on Frankie’s face. “What?” Grace asked, unamused. 

“You don’t get it,” Frankie laughed. 

“You’re right, I don’t.”

“Oh, Grace, the square root of sixty-nine, is ATE SOMETHING,” Frankie explained slowly. 

“Can you spell it out for me? I still don’t understand, I am high you know!” Grace tried to reason with her. 

“Oh, this has nothing to do with you being high. This has to do with you not being fucked throughly, honey,” Frankie said with a sad sigh as her friend subtly choked on her martini. 

“What? Frankie, now you’re making no sense! Square roots have nothing to do with sex!” Grace shrieked, outraged, embarrassed. 

“Sixty-nine is a sex position, honey. Where both people receive oral sex at the same time. So therefore the square root of sixty-nine, is ate something. Because the pussy and the penis are getting eaten, or the pussies, or the penises. Oh know i hate hetronormality,” Frankie explained trying not to laugh as Graces mouth dropped open. 

“And, you’ve done this?” Grace asked, eyes wide, fighting the urge to hide her face in her hands. 

“Oh, Grace, it’s almost all I did in the 80’s,” Frankie told her, with a smile, her eyes distant like she was thinking back on a fond memory. 

“I don’t think I missed much. I’ve never really liked, you know, someone going down there and doing that,” Grace said, sheepishly, avoiding eye contact. 

Frankie put her hand on top of Graces and gave it a squeeze. “Oh, honey, that’s just because your partners haven’t been any good at it. When you have someone who really loves you and just wants to please you, it’ll be different,” Frankie responded, sweetly, with love and sadness in her eyes. 

“Pshh, well, I’m too old for that I’m afraid. That ship has sailed along with my ability to get on my knees and please a man,” Grace sighed. 

“Grace, there are a lot of other ways to give oral than on your knees. And frankly, guys aren’t very deserving of it. It’s women who deserve it. Clitoral stimulation is what we need! Wait, so you’re telling me that out of Robert, Guy and Phil, none of them went down on you?”

“Robert did on occasion but it just made me feel awkward so eventually I just stopped him, and he stopped trying. It wasn’t anything I liked very much anyway so I could live without it,” Grace told her, avoiding her eyes. 

“Grace, I wish you would take me up on my offers to do things to you one of these times because you’ve really been fucked over by men. Plus women are better at giving head anyway,” Frankie laughed and went to put the completed boxes on the table by the door to get mailed out. 

Grace felt her world spinning, her mind was foggy, and she knew Frankie was only joking. Joking in the same sense she always was when she asked Grace for sexual favors. But still, something about their conversation had gotten to her. She felt her stomach tighten in a way she hadn’t felt in years at the though of Frankie’s hot mouth between her legs, making her come undone in a way no one ever had. A way no one ever could. Yet Frankie seemed confident she could. 

“Oh,” Grace gasped, feeling her cheeks suddenly burning. She pressed her legs tighter together under the table, thankful Frankie couldn’t see this. Numbers, math, stock market, Grace told herself, to calm down. Which had back fired because the only thing in her mind math related was sixty-nine, and not the number. 

Frankie was standing by the table again, on Graces right. “Let me know if you change your mind,” Frankie said easily and confidently with a wink as she squeezed Graces shoulder on her way out of the kitchen to her studio. 

Grace found her hand traveling to her shoulder where Frankie’s hand had just been. She let her fingertips trace over it, trying to figure out what had just happened. Picking up her martini, she downed it, deciding she was going to need another and fast if she was going to get her mind away from Frankie and get any work done today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let me know what you guys think! :)


	4. The Studio

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so if any of you have been keeping up with story you’ll notice i deleted the old chapter 4 and it has been replaced with this one. sorry but i didnt like the last chapter so hopefully you guys like this one more anyway. enjoy x

Grace finished two very strong, very dry martinis in record time, then decided to just drink her vodka straight out of the bottle, slowly, pacing herself. 

She limits herself to two drinks in one sitting ever since her little - well, not little, anything but little - drunken outburst during Frankie’s lunch a while back, but drinking was the only way she knew how to deal with what she was currently feeling.

Drinking was the only thing she allowed herself. Her only pleasure, well besides the ménage. 

This feeling was new for Grace. The feeling low and deep in her stomach she didn’t know how to explain, the one making her clench her thighs together and stifle a moan by biting her plump lower lip. A feeling she was very unfamiliar with. A feeling she couldn’t ignore any longer. 

Slow it down, Grace kept telling herself when her shaky hands would pick up the bottle. But still, Grace needed a distraction from her mind, from her body, from her feelings and from her best friend. And she knew how much she could handle. 

Standing up from her spot at the table slowly, she picked up the remainder of the labeled boxes ready to be mailed and walked them to the table by the door, finally done for the day. Shes finally able to get out of this room. Out of her body. Out of these feelings. 

But where would she go? Certainly not to Frankie, she couldn’t go out there like this. Half drunk and half out of her mind. Frankie would see right through her, see exactly how her words had effected the older woman. 

Grace raised the clear bottle to her lips again and swallowed a large amount, not that she needed it. She was drunk. More drunk than she had been in a long while, but she was still in control. Could still go talk to Frankie... 

“Fuck,” Grace muttered to herself as she stubbed her toe into the leg of the side table on her way to the back door. Her body making its decision before her mind. 

Grace took a deep breath as her bare feet touched the wood stairs, now or never she told herself. Grace put one foot in front of the other and made her way up the stairs, body shaking and mind jumpy. When Grace realized she had a death grip on the railing, she loosened her fingers around it, taking a deep breath. Reaching the top of the stairs, she smiled in victory.

Grace walked herself up to the door, only realizing now that her thighs had been clenched together her whole walk upstairs. Graces foggy mind thought back to Frankie’s heated words, back isn’t the right word since technically her mind never left that thought completely, and the promise they held. Her body reacted immediately despite her slow reaction time due to the booze and she brought her hand to the door to knock. 

Her heart rate quickened, her thighs pushed together further into each other, her nipples strained against her lace bra, and the unfamiliar stirring deep in her belly began again. Right as Frankie opened the door, it hit Grace, she was turned on. By Frankie. By her best fucking friend. 

Frankie looked at her, taking her in, smiling, almost like she knew what was on Graces mind. Frankie moved to the side to let Grace in, not asking for an explanation of her visit. 

Taking a look around her, Grace realized this space was much more homey than she’d like to believe. Grace somewhat avoided this space, why, she wasn’t completely sure. It was comfortable, radiating love. The windows were open, it still reeked of weed, and it was unbelievably messy but it screamed Frankie. It screamed home. It was somewhere she wanted to be, somewhere she could see herself. 

Grace sat on the couch, touching the leather. Touching the places Frankie’s body had been many times before and she drew a breath in through clenched teeth. 

“Are you here to take me up on my offer?” Frankie asked, very nonchalantly, hardly even looking up from her painting. 

“Im sorry, what offer would that be?” Grace asked, trying not to choke on the words, trying to sound calm. 

“We both know what offer but we can pretend I’m talking about me painting you,” Frankie said, playfully, causing Grace to once again push her thighs together. 

If it was the vodka, or the frustration, or the smell of pot and paint, or the feeling of home, Grace will never know. But something gave her the confidence to stand up, and walk slowly over to Frankie. 

Grace watched Frankie as she watched Grace move across the floor, Frankie’s face was full of amusement and curiosity for what was to come. And Grace was too, because she really had no idea what she was doing. 

She found herself using all of her earned hight, all of the years of perfecting her posture had paid off in this moment. All the times she had walked across a room, earning every set of eyes, had prepared her for this moment. The only one that mattered, only set of eyes that mattered. 

Mere inches from Frankie, she stopped. Grace placed a gentle but firm hand on Frankies hip, digging her fingers into her skin slightly, leaned in, and let her hot breath linger on Frankie’s neck for a moment before she began to whisper. 

“If I told you yes,” Grace began, her mouth now only centimeters from Frankie’s throat, “told you to undress me, push me against the wall, and make me moan,” Graces voice was deeper than usual, her hand pulled Frankie by her hip up onto her feet and into her, while her other hand snuck around Frankie and rested on her back. Grace smiled as Frankie let out a strangled moan, “or told you I wanted to make you cum harder than anyone ever has in your life, you wouldn’t know what to do. So stop playing games, Frances, you couldn’t handle this.” 

And with that, Grace was gone. Frankie missed her touch but still felt the burn where Grace had touched her and longed for it again. Frankie took a deep breath, steadying herself, opened her eyes and was only met with the dull light from the setting sun shining through her open windows and the lingering scent of Graces perfume.


	5. Movie Night

Things had been anything but normal at the beach house ever since Grace left Frankie confused, frustrated, and shaking with need to take care of herself. 

Little did Frankie know, Grace had practically ran up to her room, hardly making it there before she had the button of her jeans undone also needing desperately to take care of herself. 

The women talked, sure. Still ate meals together, sometimes. They still texted almost constantly, from the safe space of their own rooms, their own beds. 

Grace missed everything about Frankie, even missed all the things she hated. She missed finding random splotches of paint on her clothes and trying to remember exactly which touch from Frankie had put it there. Grace missed the lingering smell of pot on her fingers from smoking a joint with Frankie before bed. Grace missed the feel of having her legs draped over Frankies lap while they watched shitty reality tv that Frankie claims she couldn’t live without. She missed the taste of sea salt and baby oil from the few times when she had her lips on the rare parts of Frankies body that weren’t hidden by many layers of flowey clothes. 

Grace found herself in her lazy clothes - a large blue Harvard tee shirt (no bra) and white silk pajama shorts - the central air stopped working earlier that day and no one could come look at it until tomorrow. She was sitting alone, eating a single, small piece of chicken breast and sipping generously on her second martini. Just as she put her plate in the sink, her phone chimed from behind her. Grace felt her lips curving into a smile in the hopes it was her best friend, the woman she loved, her Frankie. 

Walking slowly to the table, Grace picked up her iPhone and opened the text. 

Brianna gave me this movie, something about old people wearing different colors of grey i think? she said we NEED 2 watch it. U busy?

Grace smiled at the text, for no particular reason, other than the fact that Frankie was asking to spend time with her. Her eager fingers couldn’t type back fast enough. 

Just finished dinner, not busy at all. 

Grace sent the iMessage and took her seat on the couch, waiting for Frankie. She opened the Facebook app on her phone and began scrolling. 

Brianna posted a picture of Spit eating her shoe.   
Haha. 

Mallory updated her status with a picture: The kids on their first day of school.   
Like. 

Frankie Bergstein updated her profile picture. It was a photo of her and Grace taken at Robert and Sols house two weeks ago, the day before Graces outburst. Grace had never seen it, she was wearing a stripped blue and white shirt and Frankie was wearing a black long sleeved dress. Frankie was gazing lovingly at Grace and Grace was smiling into the distance, looking at something not visible on camera.   
Love.   
Comment: Frankie, send me this picture! It’s so cute!

Grace had just turned her phone off and was setting it on the table beside her when Frankie walked through the door. 

“Hey girl!” Frankie greeted, without a hint of awkwardness. Grace felt the stupid grin on her face but couldn’t stop. 

“Frankie!” Grace exclaimed, nearly jumping off the couch as she wrapped Frankie in a hug. The younger woman’s arms went around her and squeezed. Grace completely forgot how she was dressed until she felt her nipples harden against Frankies chest and Grace had to use all her strength not to press her lips to Frankies neck and decided it would be good to let go of her friend before she made things worse. 

“Fuck, why is it so hot? Although, you won’t find me complaining about a chance to see those hot ass legs of yours” Frankie said with a sly smile. 

“The central air is broken,” Grace explained as she sat down on the couch. Frankie put the blu-ray disc into the player and grabbed the remote then disappeared into the kitchen, undoubtedly for snacks. 

Frankie reappeared a few minutes later with her arms full of the unhealthiest things she could find, which wasn’t much. She held it out to Grace, silently asking if she wanted any. Grace shook her head, still smiling. 

“So this is about old people wearing lots of grey? That doesn’t sound like anything Brianna would watch” Grace wondered out loud as the movie started. 

“I’m not really sure but judging by the title, that’s what I think it’s about,” Frankie answered, mouth full of popcorn. She set the bowl on the glass coffee table, scooted a bit closer to the older woman and leaned over to lift Graces skinny and bare legs off the floor and onto her lap. Grace shuttered at the contact, her body reacting immediately. She had goose flesh all over her body and clenched her thighs together gently, hoping Frankie couldn’t tell. And praying Frankie couldn’t see her nipples through her tee shirt. 

Thirty minutes later, Grace could feel the hot blush rising up her body and Frankie was laughing uncontrollably. 

“Grace, I think it’s safe to say this movie is not about old people wearing different colors of grey,” Frankie laughed, setting her hand on Graces right thigh, out of breath. 

“What is this?” Grace questioned out loud. “Do people actually have sex like this?” She was horrified. 

“What? You’ve never been tied up? Never been blindfolded? Never don’t anything kinky?” Frankie asked, pausing the movie and looking at her friend. 

“Uh, n-no, never,” Grace stuttered, self consciously beginning to pull her legs from Frankie, trying to crawl into herself again. 

“Okay, so you’re more vanilla than I thought. Tell me this, does the thought of it turn you on, Grace?” Frankie pushed, seriously. 

“I don’t know,” Grace said, shifting a bit, looking anywhere but at Frankie and at the screen, which was frozen in a very bad spot. 

“You have to have some idea, does the thought of a guy tying you up and fucking you turn you on?” 

“The thought of you tying me up and fucking me turns me on,” Grace muttered before she could stop herself. Fuck. Her head snapped toward Frankie, who was now digging her fingers into Graces skinny thigh and biting her lower lip. 

“Fuck,” Frankie muttered. 

“Frankie, I’m sorry,” Grace whispered, feeling her face burn. 

“For what, Grace? For admitting what you want? That’s all I have been trying to teach you since we moved in together. You need to speak your mind, and now you do that,” Frankie said, loosening her grip on Graces thigh. 

“Maybe we should get back to the movie?” Grace suggested, feeling more naked than she ever had in her entire life. 

Frankie leaned forward and grabbed the remote, pressing play and drowning out the screaming silence with the explicit sounds of kinky sex which only heightened the tension in the airy beach house.


	6. The Trip

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys. sorry i havent updated in literally forever. life’s been busy! anyway i got a little drunk before my flight today and wrote this little installment for you guys while i was in flight. hope you enjoy. sorry if there’s any errors, i didnt go back through and reread

The day after their movie night, Frankie woke in her studio, laying on a bag of flaming hot cheetos and dressed in the same clothes as the night before. She slowly opened her eyes, letting them adjust to the sunlight that was (no surprise) already streaming through her open windows. Once her thoughts became somewhat normal and lucid, she realized today was the day Grace left for San Fransisco. 

“Fuck!” She yelled, jumping out of bed, grabbing a few of the cheetos off the sheets and piling them into her mouth as she moved as fast as her arthritis infested body would allow. She threw the house door open and it banged against the wall behind it, Frankie visibly tensed, waiting for the scold from Grace that never came. 

Frankie opened her eyes and looked around, clean, spotless, actually and she wasn’t surprised. She walked into the kitchen and a piece of paper with “Frankie” written on it in Graces loopy script was stuck to the fridge with a “Del Taco” magnet. Frankie grabbed the paper off the fridge, the magnet went flying and she didn’t even bother to look where. She opened the note and began to read. 

“Frankie, I’m sorry about last night and I hope you’ll forgive me. You weren’t here this morning and I waited for you until the very last minute but I couldn’t miss my flight. Please text me or call or facetime, anything really short of sending smoke signals. I want to talk. xx, Grace”

Frankie found herself smiling at Graces subtle cuteness and she was once again met with the feeling of arousal at the fact of Grace signing her note with kisses. Was it a hopeful gesture? Expecting? Was Grace fantasizing about kissing her? 

Frankie bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from thinking too much about it to avoid a repeat of the other night, instead she sent texts to her and Graces children and began making plans with them. Then she allowed herself to text Grace. 

“Sorry I missed you leaving this morning, but you know how I am when I’m sleeping! Text me every hour and let me know you’re okay, I worry about you Grace. And I supposed I could clear my schedule tonight to facetime anytime between 7PM and midnight. Let me know when you’re free.” 

Frankie pressed send and then reread her text, not satisfied. She searched through her emojis and decided to send 3 kissey faces, 3 winkey faces and a red heart. 

Frankie set her phone down and began searching the fridge when she heard her phone bing behind her. She turned around and skimmed her message. 

“I’ll be free around 8. Don’t have too much fun without me” and the text was ended with a wink face. 

Frankie smiled and set her phone back down, turning back to the open fridge, grabbing out the milk. She poured a bowl of cereal, and couldn’t wait to get a start on her day because the quicker she got out of the house, the quicker she could come back and talk to Grace. 

 

Frankies day was anything besides boring, between waking up at the ass crack of dawn (9am) to babysit Faith for a better part of the day so Bud and Allison could have a few hours alone, picking up a few (which turned into a lot more than a few) groceries, and smoking a joint (maybe two) with Brianna but even with all the excitement Frankie still found herself searching for more until she settled upon the realization that all that was missing was Grace. The one component that made her days fly by, the one component that made her days in general. 

Frankie found herself lounging around her studio, trying to pass time anyway she could after she had nothing left to do. She was tired of painting, already showered, couldn’t watch the newest episode of Ray Donavan until Grace returned home the day after tomorrow, so she was left with nothing to do but clean. And there was only so much cleaning one could do before it was literally impossible to continue, unless of course, you were Grace Hanson. 

Frankie looked over at her clock, 7:34 PM. 

“Fuck me,” Frankie mumbled, willing time to go faster, willing a blink of her eyes to change the clock to read 8:00 PM so she could facetime Grace. 

Frankie grabbed her laptop and warmed it up, checking the battery and finding the cable, she got a glass of water, and then climbed onto her bed on top of the duvet. She looked over at the clock again: 7:36 PM. 

“Fuck it,” Frankie said out loud, pulling up the facetime app on her laptop and hitting the call button that hovered over Graces name. She waited with a smile on her face as it rang, and rang. 

300 miles away, in a cozy little bed and breakfast room meant for two, Grace Hanson stood under the powerful spray of a much needed hot shower. 

Just as her hand hesitated over the knob to turn off the water, her phone and her ipad started ringing simultaneously from behind the half closed door. She quickly turned off the water, grabbed her robe off the hook and threw it over her body before grabbing a towel and attempting to ring the excess water from her hair. 

Grace moved about the bathroom as quickly as she possibly could without putting herself in danger of slipping on the wet floor. She threw open the half closed door separating her from the ringing devices and the cold air that hit her sent a shock through her body, resulting in erect nipples that had to be visible through the thin fabric. 

Grace made her way over to her spot on the bed where her ipad lay, charging and awaiting this very call. She sat back against the fluffed pillows and crossed her bare, tan legs at her ankles in front of her. 

“Well, well, well, look who’s actually early for once Frances!” Grace exclaims, a smile glued to her lips. 

“I just couldn’t wait any longer! How’d it go? Tell me everything!” Frankie said, setting the laptop on the end of her bed, grabbing a pillow and plopping down on her stomach. 

“It went okay,” Grace answered, not really wanting to get into it. “Tell me about your day! How was Faith?” She asked, and watched Frankie melt before her as she told tales of her day with the little girl Grace has become very fond of. 

“Oh, Grace!” Frankie beamed, her whole face lit up, “She is just amazing, and so smart! And she misses you! Not as much as me but you get my drift.” 

“Oh,” Grace was caught off guard by the feeling in her chest, the warmth of someone missing her. The warmth of having someone to come home to. 

“Well, how was the meeting?” Frankie pressed, smile huge. 

“Uh, just a lot of masturbation talk,” Grace said, feeling her face heat up at the words she’d spoken hundreds of times in the last few words but now held more. 

“Makes sense, considering we make vibrators,” Frankie said all too nonchalantly for Graces taste. 

“Right,” Grace drew the word out longer than she meant to and found herself toying the robe around her, pulling it tighter around her. She looked at the screen and locked eyes with Frankie. 

“Grace—“ Frankie started. 

“Frankie,” Grace said at the same time, resulting in both of them chuckling at their timing. “Go ahead,” Grace said. 

“I know we have to talk about some serious shit and I really want to but, Grace, I cant stop thinking about what you said during the movie last night.”

“Oh,” Grace said, more shocked than anything, she hadn’t stopped thinking about what she had said but she figured Frankie hadn’t given it a second thought. “Um, Ive been thinking about it too.” 

Frankie noticed that Graces voice was deeper now, she noticed the shift in Graces body language, the shift in the atmosphere. She pressed her thighs together lightly when she realized Grace was putting on a show for her. Frankie swallowed hard and tried to gain control of herself before she was lost down a rabbit hole. 

“Grace, honey,” Frankie said, her voice soft, she heard Grace hum her response, waiting. “I, uh, I want to tell you what I’ve been thinking about exactly. About what I’d like to do. To you,” Frankie was cut off by the sound of a strangled moan, coming from the screen. Grace had made that noise, just from the words Frankie had said, which were not explicit by any means. 

“I can’t do this right now,” Grace shut it down immediately. The neediness all over her face gone in a flash when she seen the look on Frankies: hurt. And then Grace realized how she sounded. “Frankie, my body can not handle you talking to me in that way, not right now, not when you’re so far away and I can’t touch you.” Grace corrected herself. 

“Maybe it’s better this way, then we won’t take it too far?” Frankie brainstormed out loud. 

“Tell me about your day, Frankie. You can tell me your dirty thoughts when I get home,” Grace smirked. 

“I’m going to send them to you, tomorrow, when you’re in your meeting. So you’re squirming and biting your lip and can’t think of anything else except how you should have let me tell you tonight so you could have taken care of yourself with me listening,” Frankie challenged back with a grin. “Good night, Grace. Sleep tight,” Frankie winked, and the screen went black. 

Whatever the hell that was, Grace wasn’t sure but one thing she was for sure about was: there’s no way in hell she plans on bringing her phone into her meeting tomorrow.


	7. The Phone Call

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i’m so sorry it’s been months since ii’ve updated this. :( anyway i hope you enjoy!

Grace’s body fell back against the foreign pillows, the hard mattress catching her, the breath she was holding in escaping her lungs on impact. She let her hand come up to her face and cover her eyes before traveling down to her silk robe, opening it slightly. Her fingers lightly came to rest on the soft skin of her belly and she quickly glanced to her right, checking the time. 8:05 PM.

Grace picked her phone up from its charging pad on the table next to her oversized bed and hovered her long skinny finger over the call button by Frankies name. Her first instinct was to go to the airport and take the first flight back home. And FaceTiming Frankie back was her next thought to force her to finish the conversation she started but a phone call was the safer option of the three. 

Grace toyed the thin fabric of her robe between her fingers with one hand and held her ringing phone up to her ear with the other as she waited.

“Couldn’t wait until tomorrow to hear what I had to say?” Frankie asked, picking up on the third ring. Grace smiled, glad there was no hint of anything awkward between them despite everything changing around them, between them, within them. She thought back to a time when they couldn’t even stand to be in the same room as each other, and the same was true now but for very different reasons. 

“I just wanted to hear your voice,” Grace admits, with her eyes closed, her mind distant and lucid at the same time: imagining what Frankie is doing on the other side of the phone and waiting impatiently for her reply but she’s only met with deep breathing.

“What are you doing?” Grace sits up and adjusts the pillows behind her before laying back.

“Just thinking,” Frankie pauses, “about you.” Grace has felt the effects of the younger woman's words since she first answered the phone despite her words being far from explicit. Grace feels her heart pounding in her chest and goose flesh becomes present on her skin. 

“What about me?” Grace breaths, fussing with the edge of her robe once again, her fingers brushing the top of her thigh. She's hears Frankie breathing into the phone and imagines her behind her, breathing down her neck. Grace crosses her legs, then uncrosses them. 

“What it will be like,” Frankie sighs deeply, like she's also engrossed in a fantasy. Grace feels the sweat forming on her forehead, her palms, the small of her back. 

“And, how is it?” Grace asks, fingers gently running across the exposed skin of her chest. “In your head,” she adds as an afterthought. 

“Ah ah ah, nice try, you little hussy,” Frankie laughs. “Don’t think I can’t tell what this conversation is doing to you, despite you trying to act cool as a cucumber, Grace. I know you better than anyone!” 

“If you know me so well, then what am I doing? Right now,” Grace asks, her hand now tracing the outline of her erect nipples through the silk of her robe. 

“You aren’t doing anything. Grace Hanson is much too bourgeoisie to have phone sex of any kind.” Frankie laughed and Grace scowled.

“Is that why I’m wearing nothing but a lightly tied silk robe and staring down a jar of your lube?” Grace asked, smirk playing at her playful lips. She thought back to a time with Phil when she tried, tried with every ounce of her being to say sexy things but it just embarrassed her. Now, on the phone with Frankie was the complete opposite, erotic even, pleasing. 

“You tease, I don’t believe you,” Frankie challenged, but Grace heard the hesitation before she spoke. Something Frankie had said in the past was screaming in Graces mind and she told Frankie to hold that thought while she pulled her phone away from her ear and opened the camera app, enabling the front camera and snapping a quick picture that was somewhat on the unfocused side but sexy nonetheless. She looked it over once before pressing send and almost couldn’t believe the woman she was becoming: free, unafraid, uninhibited, new. 

She heard Frankies phone ping through the call and bit her lip in anticipation, knowing what she was about to see: Grace, on a crisp, white duvet, toned thighs sticking out of her black lace robe that was lightly tied over her stomach leaving her her tanned chest and some cleavage along with her neck exposed and the frame stopping right above her plump lips, leaving just enough to the imagination that Frankie had no right to ever call her a tease again. 

“Just a second, Grace, someone texted me,” Frankie said before Grace no longer heard her breathing. After a few seconds of silence, Grace heard a sharp intake of air and then a crash. She was just about to ask Frankie if she was okay, if she fell, when Frankies booming voice came back through the speaker. 

“Sorry, I , uh, dropped my phone,” Frankie said, her voice different now. 

Grace giggled, as she watched her hand disappear beneath the confinements of her robe. “Would you like to see what I’m doing now?” She asked, her own voice dripping thick with arousal. Her fingernails scraped across her nipple and she sharply inhaled. 

“Grace, I have to go,” Frankie said promptly before hanging up, leaving Grace high but not dry and confused


	8. The Bedroom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you guys know i am a sucker for some smut and its been so long since anyone has posted any so here is this chapter. the rating of this story definitely has to go up now lol but anyway enjoy :) and thank you to everyone who has left me feedback, i love reading it!

Grace stepped out of her Uber and walked toward the safety of the beach house with her purse slung over her shoulder, her small suitcase wheeling behind her as her heels clicked on the pavement. She quickly dug her keys out of her purse, trying to be as quiet as possible so she didn’t disturb Frankie, if she was even around. 

Grace entered the house through the front door, completely lost in her thoughts and anxieties. She hadn’t heard from Frankie since their heated conversation had abruptly ended two nights ago with no explanation, the only exception being Frankie texting her to wish her luck at the meeting, leaving out her promised sexting. 

Grace sighed deeply and dropped her keys in the bowl next to the front door, then trailed her fingers lightly across the banister before lugging her suitcase up the stairs and into the confinements of her stuffy, empty room. Upon entering the space, she immediately noticed her bed was messier than when she left it. She moved closer, leaving her suitcase forgotten by the door. 

Grace ran the palm of her hand over her side of the bed, smoothing out the wrinkles. A few strands of brown and grey hair clung to her fingers when she lifted her hand and she felt warmth spreading through her body. Frankie had been here, laid here, slept here, maybe undressed here, and let her mind run wild with the possibilities of what could happen between them right here in this bed. Arousal began to pump through Graces veins as she lifted her pillow to her face and inhaled the scent of Frankie, fresh, natural, addicting. 

A noise from behind her brought Grace back to the present, and she let the pillow fall back onto the mattress before turning to face Frankie standing in the doorframe. Grace looked into Frankies eyes from across the room and felt her heart pounding throughout her entire body. She opened her mouth to speak, but didn’t know what she wanted to say so she remained quiet, fixated on the dark haired goddess standing before her. 

Frankie inched forward, closing the distance between them. Grace licked her lips and opened her mouth to speak again, but was cut off by the hot heat of Frankie’s mouth on hers, pulling her in. Frankie pulled back and Grace felt as though the wind had been knocked out of her. 

“I’m, uh, sorry. I shouldn’t ha--” Frankie began rambling but was stopped short by Grace pushing her against the mattress until she fell back onto it. Grace stood next to the bed where Frankie was laying on her back with her feet still planted on the floor, she placed one knee on the mattress beside the other woman's hip and Frankie watched as the other knee traveled over her body and landed to rest nudging against her other hip. Grace leaned forward and searched Frankies eyes for answers, for permission. 

The permission she was waiting for, came in the response of Frankie’s hands on either side of her face, pulling her the rest of the way down on all fours, their lips connecting in a primal kiss nothing like the one they shared moments ago. The kiss now was needy, unreserved, unlike anything she’d ever experienced. The darkness behind Grace’s closed eyelids went white with arousal when she felt Frankie’s tongue against her bottom lip, and when her tongue met Frankies the moan that rang out of Grace surprised them both. 

“Oh, honey,” Frankie breathed, breaking the kiss to run her lips along the soft skin of Grace’s neck, one of Grace’s hands were busy holding her up and the other was intertwined in Frankie’s curly mane. Grace bit her bottom lip hard as she felt the wetness of Frankies tongue against her collarbone. She sat back up, pulling away from Frankies touch, and the other woman's hands came to rest on Grace’s thighs as she watched Grace pull her light colored sweater over her head, discarding it onto the floor, revealing a black lace bra that left little to the imagination. 

For a second, Grace regained her judgment and Frankie’s rejection came flooding back into her mind. “Why did you hang up?” She asked, voice low. 

“No talking,” Frankie ordered, her hand traveled up from where it was resting at Graces hip and connected with fevered, still taut skin of Graces stomach. Her hand continued up, tracing the outline of Graces lace clad breast, and coming to rest lightly around Grace’s throat. It was Frankie’s turn to moan as Grace sunk down on Frankies stomach and fought the urge to grind against her, searching for sweet relief. 

They locked eyes as Grace dove back in for another heated, sloppy kiss that left both of them breathless and sent Grace in search of more. She ran the hand that wasn’t holding her up down Frankie’s arm then back up before exploring her chest and tracing circles around Frankie’s erect nipples through the thick fabric of her dress. 

Frankie reached between them and unbuttoned Graces jeans, then she used her strength to push Grace back up to a standing position. With her heels on, she was a few inches taller than Frankie but she could make it work. Frankie’s hands rested on Graces hips and she placed small kisses up the length of her left arm before spinning them so the back of Graces knees were aligned with the mattress, and she pushed her back so she was laying on her back.

“Frankie,” Grace whined from below Frankie as she pressed open mouthed kissed down Graces stomach, one hand toying with Graces breast, the other resting on Graces hip. “I want to touch you.”

“Tonight,” Frankie kissed right below Grace’s belly button. “Is,” Frankie’s fingers curled around the waistband of Graces already unbuttoned jeans. “All,” Frankie began tugging them gently down Graces long legs. “About,” Grace lifted her hips to help make the process easier. “You,” Frankie whispered as she discarded Grace’s jeans on the floor, and kneeled between Grace’s already parted legs. 

Grace’s panties matched her bra and Frankie wasn’t surprised but she thought this is what heaven must be: Grace Hanson, uninhibited, drove by arousal, begging beneath her. Frankie smiled down at the woman before her, taking in the sight of her near naked body. She grabbed the pillow Grace sleeps on and put it on the floor in front of her, then kneeled down onto it.

The irony was not lost on Grace that she was practically naked and Frankie hadn’t taken off a single item of her clothing, and while Grace’s mind was screaming at her that she wanted to touch Frankie, wanted to please her, all she could focus on was the mouth kissing the inside of her thighs, slowly inching their way closer to where she wanted it most. 

Grace bit her lip and grabbed the back of Frankie’s head, pulling her gently away from her thigh and up making her look over her body and into her eyes. “Frankie, if we do this, there is no going back,” Grace said, her voice deeper than she’d ever heard it.

“I don’t want to go back,” Frankie said simply, her thumb lightly trailing from the center of where Grace’s lace panties met the mattress to the damp spot soaking through her panties. “Is going back something you would like to do, Grace?” Grace moaned in response. “Hmm?” Frankie asked again, her thumb traveling further up with increased pressure, stopping to circle Grace’s clitoris. 

“No,” Grace answered, eyes pressed shut, “I don’t want to go back, Frankie. Please, just don’t stop,” Grace begged, through clenched teeth. Frankie circled her thumb once more before moving her hands to both sides of Grace’s hips and hooked her fingers around the band of what were no doubt, expensive as hell panties, and shimmied them down her hips. Once Frankie had maneuvered the panties down past Graces knees, she lifted one leg out of them and kicked the bundle of lace across the room.

Frankie wasted no time before placing small kisses up Grace’s thigh, she grinned against skin when she heard Grace begging from above her. Frankie opened her mouth and gently sunk her teeth into the soft skin of Grace’s inner thigh and pressed her own thighs tightly together at the deep, guttural moan it earned from Grace.

“Frankie, I’m gonna come before you even do anything if you keep that shit up,” Grace warned, breathless. Frankie sat up slightly, and ran her finger through Graces slick folds, before taking her finger away and looking Grace in the eye before sucking her pointer finger, then her middle finger into her mouth, letting go of them with a pop. Frankie moaned as she sunk her finger into Grace’s core, before pulling back and adding another. She curled her fingers up in a “come here” motion, earning deep moans from Grace. 

She watched as Grace’s back arched and she squirmed around on top of the duvet, taking handfuls of it in her fingers, leaving the bed a mess around her. Frankie leaned forward and sucked an erect nipple between her lips, letting her tongue trace around it. Her thumb once again found Grace’s pulsing clitoris and began to circle it with increasing pressure.

Grace’s eyes snapped open, looking deep into Frankies as she lifted her feet off the floor and let her shaky legs rest on the edge of the mattress, her toes curling. Grace’s mouth that usually spewed profanities out of anger sounded angelic spewing profanities out of erotisism. 

“Fuu--ck, Frankie, I’m coming. Harder, please, harder,” Grace begged, her eyes rolling up in her head as her muscles seized Frankie’s fingers in place, but she continued to circle with her thumb until Grace’s muscles released and Frankie was sure the orgasm had subsided and knew if she continued any longer, it would cause discomfort for the older woman. 

She slowly pulled her fingers out, stood up thankful to be off her sore knees and brought her fingers to her mouth again, this time finding so much more of the desirable taste Grace’s body had produced, reminding her of the ache between her own legs. She looked down at Grace who was watching her with parted lips and flushed cheeks.

“Kiss me?” Grace asked, breathlessly. Frankie climbed onto the bed and laid beside Grace, doing what she was asked. Grace deepened the kiss and probed Frankies mouth with her tongue, moaning as she tasted hints herself for the first time on Frankies tongue. 

“You, Ms Hanson, are kinkier than I imagined. Though, I shouldn’t be surprised after that picture you sent me,” Frankie smirked.


	9. The Imperfections

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay guysssss so this story has sadly come to an end and i hope the ending will give you some closure. i enjoyed writing it so much and i hope you've enjoyed reading it! thank you everyone for the feedback, i love you all. i'll hopefully be updating my other story soon, and i'm currently working on a new fic for y'all since i'm done with this one :)

Grace's eyes fluttered open slowly but despite how she usually woke up, she was not groggy at all. She felt Frankies still clothed arms around her unclothed body and vivid visions of the night before flooded her memory. She turned to find Frankie still asleep and glanced at the clock on the bedside table, 5:17am. Fuck me, she thought, it's way too early. But, she had gotten a great night's rest and falling back asleep wasn’t an option. 

Grace snuck her arm around Frankie’s middle and let it rest on her side, and let her leg drape over Frankie’s, who was snoring lightly. Grace chuckled, she leaned forward and placed her lips against the warm skin of Frankie’s cheek as an idea struck her. 

Grace let her lips slowly drag down over Frankie’s soft skin, down her jawline, down her neck, down to her collarbones. She stopped momentarily but didn’t disconnect her lips to pull the thick fabric of Frankie’s dress away, and continued. Her lips traveling over uncharted territory ever so slowly, waiting for Frankie to awake. Grace listened as the other woman’s breathing changed in her sleep and became impatient, Grace decided to up her game. She let her tongue dance across Frankie’s sweet skin just below her collarbone and her hand that was resting at Frankie’s side moved up, lightly tracing Frankie’s breast and then came to circle an erect nipple. 

Grace felt her own body reacting to her actions, she fought the urge to dry hump Frankie’s hip and wondered when the fuck she became a horny teenager. In fact, she thought astounded, I’ve never, ever been like this, never felt like this. 

“Baby,” Grace whispered, her lips still pressed against Frankie’s skin. Frankie made a noise in response that was a half moan, half snore and Grace burst into a fit of laughter. Once she regained her control, she leaned in close to Frankie’s ear. “Wake up, honey. I have things I want to do to you that I think you’ll want to be awake for,” Her voice was rough, needy. Frankie finally stirred, her hip rubbing against Graces naked core giving her a small moment of relief and she moaned. 

“Well, good morning to you too,” Frankie sighed, her eyes still closed and her voice laced with sleep.

“It is now that you’re awake,” Grace grinned as she lifted herself onto Frankie's lap and leaned over resuming her trail of kisses. “Let’s get you out of these clothes, I’m dying to taste the rest of you,” Grace told her huskily and Frankie moaned in response before quickly turning them over so she was on top of Grace. 

“I think you it’s your turn,” Frankie told her sternly, her hand already between their bodies, her fingers trailing down Grace's flat stomach, hardly giving her time to think before connecting with her clit. “Mmm, honey,” Frankie moaned against her lips before connecting them to hers, claiming her, exploring her. 

Grace’s mind was so busy focusing on the pleasure being wonderfully given to her but something in the back of her mind was screaming at her. She didn’t deserve this, two orgasms in 12 hours while Frankie hadn't come at all and still had all her clothes on. Alarm bells went off in her mind. Wait, Frankie still had all her clothes on. She broke the kiss, “I want to touch you,” she whispered, testing the waters before tugging at the bottom of the long dress, yanking it up. Frankie’s hands came to rest on Graces, stopping her.

“Let me do this for you, Grace,” Frankie pleaded, sounding vulnerable. 

“Frankie,” Grace sat up and leaned over to turn the lamp on, momentarily blinding herself. She blinked and turned back to Frankie, still seeing spots of black in her vision. “What's wrong? Why won’t you let me touch you? It’s all I want,” She wined, closed her eyes and let her forehead rest against Frankies, her arms pulling her in closer. The cool air from the open window hit Graces back and made her shiver. Frankie reached forward and pulled the duvet over them, sheltering them from more than just the cold. Grace brought her hand up to Frankie's cheek and realized she was crying. “Frankie?” She asked again, this time her own voice cracking, afraid of what was happening between them. Was Frankie having regrets? Was this not what she wanted? Grace took a deep breath and gently wiped the tears from the other woman's face and pulled her down to lay on her bare chest. 

“Talk to me, Frankie, please. Whatever it is, I’m here. I know I’m not always the best listener and I’m drunk too often and I am a raging cunt half the time but my god, do I love you more than I ever thought I could love anyone. All I want is for you to be happy so if that means you think what we did here was a mistake, we’ll just have to work through it. We can go back to how it was before, as long as I don’t lose you, I can’t Frankie,” Grace choked out, her own words mixed with tears that at any moment could turn to sobs. She pulled Frankie closer to her, needing to feel her.

“I love you, Grace,” Frankie whispered, her voice barely audible, so low that Grace isn’t even sure she heard correctly. Then Frankie repeats herself, “I love you,” louder this time. Grace looks into her eyes and sees the tears, sees her reflection, sees the future, the one she wishes she could have found lifetimes ago. 

“What’s the matter?” Grace asks again, stroking Frankie’s soft hair.

“What happened between us could never have been a mistake, the Goddess has been trying to get this to happen for a long time now,” Frankie starts and Grace smiles, thinking back on all the times Frankie’s tried to get this to happen.

“The goddess, or you?” Grace asks with a chuckle. 

“Both,” Frankie smiles, then it's gone and she looks away. “It wasn’t a mistake, but Grace, I am not like you.” The words hit Grace hard, not like you. What that fuck does that even mean? 

“I’m not sure I follow,” Grace answered, confused, and she wished Frankie would look her in the eyes. And, as if she’s reading her mind, she does.

“You have spent your life perfecting yourself, starving yourself, grooming yourself, exercising. Grace, I don’t look like you. I haven’t shaved my armpits in, like literally ever, I don’t wax my vagina, and the only exercising I do is running from the car into Del Taco before they close,” Frankie sighed, and Grace could see the pain so visible on her face and she wondered what happened to the confident woman that used to occupy her body. 

Grace placed her hands on both sides of Frankie's face and tilted her head up towards her, staring deep into her eyes. She leaned forward and pressed her lips against Frankies, not like she had the night before, this time it was filled with a different emotion. When she pulled away, tears were streaming down both of their faces. “You don’t think I know all that stuff already? Frankie, I love you, and no amount of body hair or missed workouts will change that. You are perfect the way you are and I want to spend the rest of my life showing you that,” Grace paused, realization hitting her. “This is why you’ve been acting weird since I sent you that photo?” 

“I just, you looked so perfect and I wanted you so bad but I didn’t think you’d want what you can’t see under all this fabric,” Frankie sighed.

“Are you forgetting the first time we met you flashed me the wonderful things you’ve got under all this fabric?” Grace grinned, hoping to lighten the mood and make Frankie feel better.

“That was years ago, Grace,” Frankie said, looking away again. 

“Frankie,” Grace whispered, “I am so sorry I ever made you feel this way about yourself, that you thought I wouldn’t want you, that you wouldn’t turn me on. Honey, you single-handedly turn me on more than anything or anyone else on this entire earth. And I have never wanted anyone the way I want you. We're in our seventies for god sake and I feel like I am alive for the first time. You did this to me, Frankie. I love you,” Grace kisses her again, more urgently this time. She lets her tongue flick against Frankie's bottom lip, lets her tongue press against Frankie’s teeth, lets their tongues dance forcefully. She breaks the kiss for the air that she never thought she’d hate, but she does, hates her need to breathe, hates every moment her lips aren't against Frankies. “Let me show you?” Grace asks, and she doesn’t mean for it to come out as a beg, but it does. She’s begging Frankie to let her in, to let her prove herself worthy. “I know what we’re doing is messy, and I know we’re going to fuck up but I love you and I want to spend every day showing you how much.”

Frankie pulls away and Grace watches as Frankie closes her eyes and bites her lip, then pulls her dress over her head and discards it on the floor, fast, before she can change her mind, leaving her in only a pair of white cotton panties. Grace’s vision goes blurry and the ache between her legs is suddenly stronger than it ever was before as she takes in the sight of her best friend, so close to naked, on her bed, opening up for her for the first time. Grace didn’t plan the moan that is now making its way out of her mouth, and she didn't plan the flood of arousal coursing through her body, didn’t plan for her eyes to dilate and turn three shades darker in front of Frankie, and she didn’t plan for her hands to shake as they reached out to touch the other woman but it happened and she is far from being able to stop or keep it under control now. 

Grace closed the little distance between them, both of them now on their knees on the mattress, bodies pressed against each other. Grace kissed Frankie gently on the lips before leaning up and kissing her forehead, then her cheek, her nose, then she began trailing open-mouthed kisses down the woman's body. Her neck, her collarbone, she lifted Frankie’s arm and kissed her bicep, her elbow, her forearm, each of her knuckles, her palm, every inch of skin Grace could touch with her lips. Then she trailed back with her tongue, she felt the goosebumps form on Frankie’s skin, felt her shiver against her body. 

“I love you, Frankie, with every piece of me, forever,” Grace whispered before she pushed Frankie down on her back, and continued her journey home to the place between Frankie's thighs, the place she had been searching for all her life, making Frankies doubts disappear with each kiss.


End file.
